Loyal to the End
by stillplayingpretend
Summary: Cedric Diggory is dead. Poor Professor Sprout is left to try and pick up the pieces for his grieving parents. A drabble for the Houses Competition. Prompt: Sometimes all you need is a good cry. Takes place at the end of GOF.


**A/N: House/Team: Badgers. Class Subject: Potions. Story Category: Drabble. Prompt: [Prompt] Sometimes All You Need is a Good Cry. Word Count: 797. Takes place at the end of GOF. Theme: Does not include any of the top 20 HP characters. I'm not JKR. **

"My boy," Amos Diggory was sobbing. "My boy is gone. My boy is gone."

"Shhh, there now," said Professor Sprout. "It's going to be alright."

"H-how." He sobbed. "How can it ever be alright again? My boy is gone. My boy-"

Amos buried his head in his wife's chest and the two of them continued to weep together. Professor Sprout wrapped her arms around them sympathetically and patted Amos's shoulder. "Cedric won, Mr. Diggory. He won, did you know that? All those competitors, all those obstacles in the maze. He won, and he did it like a true Hufflepuff. Loyal to the end."

"He- he was, wasn't he?" Amos sniffed. Professor Sprout patted him again and gave Mrs. Diggory a thin smile. Amos sniffed again and continued rambling. "He was so loyal. A right proper Badger. Loyal to the end and fearsome when roused."

"He was determined to win it fair and square." Professor Sprout replied proudly. "Not going to lower himself to cheating no matter what. Didn't matter to him that everyone else was doing it. Cedric was going to make it through the tasks and do it with integrity. He wanted to make you and Hogwarts proud, and I daresay he has."

Amos started sobbing again, and Mrs. Diggory let out a little sad hiccup. "He has! Oh my poor boy, he has, he has!"

"Do you know what he said to me, when he found out there were going to be four champions instead of three?" Professor Sprout continued on soothingly. "He said that he didn't mind so much, because as much as he wanted to win it just meant a higher likelihood of a Hogwarts victory." She let out a little chuckle. "Then he said, 'Of course, Professor, I'm going to do my best to make sure that a little bit of that glory falls on Hufflepuff house. It's about time we got a little bit of the limelight, don't you think?'"

"About time indeed!" Amos wailed dramatically. Professor Sprout continued to pat his back in a soothing, rhythmic motion. "He was an excellent Prefect. I never doubted that we made the right decision in choosing him. He never was one for herbology, but I guess that just goes to show that nobody's perfect."

Amos let out a little shaky laugh and wiped his eyes. "Flying, that was his game. Not plants. They beat Gryffindor last year, you know. My boy did that."

Professor Sprout stopped patting his back and handed him her flowery handkerchief. "Yes, I was there. A proud day for us all."

"Thank you, Pomona," said Mrs. Diggory tremulously. "I think – I think we need to go make some arrangements. I don't… I don't know where to begin, but I hope you'll be a part of the decisions? You were his head of house after all."

"It would be my honor." She replied stoutly. "You let me know what you need, anything at all. Hufflepuff house takes care of its own."

"Thank you. Come on Amos."

Mr. Diggory took a deep breath, gathered his strength and stood up. Together, the two Diggorys stumbled out of Professor Sprout's office and out into Hogwarts. Pomona smiled sadly as she watched them go. Their lives would never be the same, but at least she could offer them the small comfort of being a listening ear and allowing them to get some of their grief out.

"Pomona?" came a small squeaky voice. Professor Sprout looked down and saw Professor Flitwick standing at her office door. "Pomona, have the Diggorys gone?"

"Yes," said Professor Sprout dully. She looked down at her friend for a moment, then she burst into tears.

"Oh dear, oh dear. Oh no." said Flitwick fretfully. He clambered up onto the chair that Mr. Diggory had just vacated and patted her elbow awkwardly. "There now, let it out. It's alright, let it out."

"My boy, Filius." Professor Sprout sobbed. "My boy is dead."

"I know, I know. There now, let it all out. You'll feel better."

Pomona wept for several minutes and then blew her nose and looked down at her friend again. "He won't be the last Filius. Now that the war is starting again."

"No," said Flitwick gravely. "He won't be the last. But we're not going to let a single one go without a fight. Not a single one Pomona, I promise you that."

"No, we're not." Pomona said determinedly. She let out a sorrowful sigh. "Thank you Filius."

Flitwick smiled understandingly up at her. "Don't be silly, Pomona. Even we professors need a moment to be human."

Pomona took a deep breath and found that the tightness in her chest had loosened a tad. "And so it begins again."

"Yes," echoed Filius gravely. "And so it begins again."


End file.
